


perfect blue.

by cp035



Series: Tumblr Prompts [1]
Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-20
Updated: 2014-10-20
Packaged: 2018-02-21 22:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2485097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cp035/pseuds/cp035
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr prompt; "It's okay to cry."</p><p>Charlie's exhibition costume leaves him feeling less than confident.</p>
            </blockquote>





	perfect blue.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [themorewedance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/themorewedance/gifts).



> This is the first of the prompts I received for the Tumblr Angst meme; but I think my niche is really in writing angsty things that wind up becoming hilarious. This is sitcom-level angst; but I do hope y'all enjoy! :)

"Uhm... _what-_ _why are we awake at five in the morning?_ "

 

" _Shhhh-_ sorry, just go back to slee- _shit!_ "

 

Charlie tried in vain to grab on to the drawer pull of their hotel room's bedside table, groaning in pain as he hit the floor, half tangled in the sleeves of the blue lycra shirt he needed to wear for he and Meryl's performance at the Rockefeller Rink. Pinwheeling around on a brushed carpet to get the goddamn thing on without it _bursting_ at the seams apparently did things to one's honed sense of balance that _literally_ could knock you on your ass.

 

The car was coming in an hour; and he and Meryl would need to be warmed up by seven, for whenever Kathy Lee and Hoda thought it best to squeeze their segment into Good Morning America.

 

Meanwhile, Tanith; who had fallen asleep still wearing her jersey from the hockey game he had taken her to the night before (which the Rangers had lost, _dammit_ ) blinked, bleary-eyed, at the scene before her from the middle of their bed.

 

"Right, you have that _thing_...at the Rock.", she yawned, clearly not as interested in her fiance's dawning professional skating career as she was in going back to sleep.

 

"Good Luck, and to Meryl too.", she murmured, before rolling over and pulling the sheets up over her head; oblivious to the absolutely humiliating situation Charlie was finding himself in.

 

No matter what he tried; the goddamn outfit for he and Meryl's Rachimanoff exhibition piece simply _wouldn't_ fit.

 

Okay, that was mildly _stretching_ the truth.

 

It was on, but it wasn't on _right._

 

He had tried tugging the top down as low as it would go, finally satisfied that its' tails were no longer riding up uncomfortably in back, only to find himself _horrified_ by what was hanging in the front once he turned around in the bathroom mirror, his hands on his hips; and the waistband of the velvet pants it had taken his mother three appointments with their seamstress just to have fit _exactly_ right gaping in the strangest places as he played a guessing game with them, first trying to pull them up as high as he could get them, and lower and lower, until they were tight at the point just below his hips; and he looked like the one other white guy in Eminem's movie, 8 Mile, from the waist down.

 

The zippered hem on his pants was _dragging_ , he had unbuttoned the shirt down as far as he _possibly_ could; and looked like something half out of Oliver Twist; half out of Beetlejuice when he had finally given up; lightly kissed Tanith's cheek to say goodbye, and ran down the hall in his flip-flops, skates slung over his shoulder with half a guard hanging loose- and began pounding on _her_ door.

 

* * *

 

 

Perhaps predictably; Meryl snorted with laughter as she pulled open her door; already dressed in her exhibition costume; the white dress which she and her mother had added yet another round of rhinestones to the weekend before they were due in New York.

 

She had pulled a maroon sweater over her outfit, and had a fistful of hairpin in one hand, twisting her hair into it's latest secretly elaborate updo. The color of her sweater matched the streaks in her hair; because, Charlie reminded himself- trying not to roll his eyes, Meryl was just the _better_ of them, and for his sake- maybe he should learn to live with it.

 

" _Meryl!_ ", he hissed, not quite intending to sound as desperate as it came out, half a wheeze and half a squeak.

 

" _Sorry_.", she giggled. "Just- come in, Charlie. There might be hope for you yet. Once we do your makeup-", she teased, her voice light with mirth.

 

His irritation only grew as Meryl excitedly pulled him inside and towards the vanity table in her room. "I think we need to try a little bronzer today; and you're a little darker than I am, so maybe this shade- _Sunset_. Just to bring out your cheekbones...", she muttered while foundation palettes were flipped open and makeup brushes were pulled from the depths of a huge bag lying in front of the mirror.

 

"No, _I'm sorry._ I wasn't aware that this is all just so _funny_ to you, Meryl.", he said, pointedly, unable to keep the dejected glare from his face.

 

"Lighten up, _Charlie_. We've done this before.", she laughed, pushing him down on to the vanity chair, so that she stood over him; bronze-tipped brush in hand, enjoying herself altogether too much for him to take.

 

"It's _fine_...I mean, we're kind of in the same boat. _I_ haven't slept in like, the past day- maybe? I had a nap last night but I had that twenty-page paper for my Classical Studies class, so I had to stay up a bit to finish it, and of course, my dress for the Foundation Dinner just came in, which I don't even want to _think_ about because according to Yuki's insider info, I'm a favorite to win, which means a speech and interviews and-"

 

"Well, no, I don't think we're in the same boat, actually.", Charlie hissed, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice as Meryl's bronzer swept over his forehead.

 

"Yeah, you've got the _wedding_ to think about and I can't even imagine how stressful that must be. Did Tanith like the game last night? She said she felt a little tired on the plane, but it's probably just all the hours she put in with her girls going to Regionals. You don't think she's coming down with something, do you?"

 

" _Oh for God's sake. Meryl, stop it._ ", Charlie groaned, unable to help himself from recoiling away from her touch, squirming in his seat and becoming vaguely aware, from his half-open left eye, that he looked very childish at the moment.

 

" _Stop_...worrying about _my_ fiance and stop- _Oh my God._ While I am very aware the _entire_ world just can't quit fawning over you no matter what you do; I just- I am so _sick-_ "

 

He pulled himself up from the chair and shook the Sunset dust from his eyelashes.

 

"- _my fucking pants don't fit_ -" he half-shouted, as his fist slammed down on the oakwood counter.

 

"-and I look like _Peter fucking Griffin_ in this dumb shirt and I know this seems _stupid_ and it probably _doesn't matte_ r to you because you're somehow from a higher plane of existence than the rest of us, _but I'm actually trying not to look even more like a fucking buffoon on national television."_

 

Meryl shook her head, puzzled. "Charlie...c'mon. I was just... _joking_. I don't think you look like a fucking buffoon. Maybe a _general_ buffoon, but...hey-should we talk about this?", she asked, her sing-song voice lowered to a much more serious, gentle, tone.

 

The bronzer brush was set down on his chair, forgotten, while she led them both to her bed.

 

Sitting at its foot, Charlie could look up to see the sun, rising over the New York skyline, and feel the warmth of her side pressed into his, her arm wrapped tight around his back. Meryl's hugs were pretty amazing, even when he desperately wished to maintain the feeling of kind of fighting, which they rarely ever did.

 

"So... _Meryl_ -", he began, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Tell me, do _you_ ever feel like an underachieving fatass?"

 

She stared up at him, gaping almost comically. " _That's_ what this is about? _Seriously?_ Oh, _Charlie..."_

 

"I'll take that as a " _No_ , Charlie, I haven't ever felt like an underachieving fatass, because I'm _not_. I have a body most models would be _jealous_ of, and I've been on honor roll my _entire_ life, and currently, I am the _toast_ of the American sports world, which chooses to remember me as _Olympic Gold Medalist Meryl Davis_ , who won her event in Sochi beside "No Entry". Who's Charlie? _Well, I don't know_."

 

He flung himself back on the bed, then, staring up at the flecks of crystal in the ceiling, and the elaborate plastic chandelier hanging above the headboard, which Charlie could agree probably looked quite classy to someone less bitter.

 

"Are you.. _.jealous of me_ , Charlie? Is that why...we're having this conversation?"

 

"No...", Charlie sighed. "I'm not jealous. I _love_ that you're finally getting everything you deserve. I'm just... _frustrated._ "

 

"Wanna know what I've done all summer? Gotten a new dog. _Fuck me_. I'm signed up for one class, and I'm not even- I got a B on the midterm. Tanith's had straight A's all semester with _five_ online classes and she has an actual _job_ which- not that I don't enjoy skating with you but I just...you actually know what you're going to be doing. Where you're going and everything, and I'm gaining ten pounds and being a drain on society, which _sucks_ , by the way. Don't try it.", he continued, much to Meryl's half-pitying amusement.

 

"Charlie..."

 

"No, you know what, don't tell me it's okay and this is temporary and I'll get over it. Because...I- am so _sick_ of myself, okay? And maybe I just need to wallow in it for a while." He could feel his eyes burn, and the strangely foreign wetness of tears run down his cheeks; into his hair.

 

"I'm not going to fill your head with empty compliments, Charlie. That's _never_ been how we do things."

 

"Are you going to say something _kind of_ nice, at least?, he said, his voice just slightly weaker from trying to swallow the incessant urge to cry even more.

 

Meryl chuckled to herself, and threw herself down on the bed beside him.

 

"Okay. But you'll have to give me a minute. I can't think of anything _nice_ to say just yet....", she teased, and Charlie slapped the back of his hand against her shoulder.

 

" _Ow!_ Hey, you can't just injure your partner before we open the rink at the Rockefeller Center!"

 

" _Lighten up, Meryl._ You barely felt that."

 

"True. Okay. I thought of something. Your eyes.", she laughed, sitting up so she could trace his cheekbones with a wine-painted fingernail, wiping at the tears with the base of her thumb. Charlie's face screwed into a skeptical expression, his mouth twisted into a crooked line.

 

"No...c'mon, _everyone_ knows that when you say someone has nice eyes, you're just trying to spare their ego."

 

Meryl shook her head. "You always told me I had nice eyes. _Jerk_."

 

"That was just during your awkward phase.", he shot back with a slight grin.

 

"You _also_ told me I never had an awkward phase, and those girls at school were just jealous because I was winning medals with you when their boyfriends were all working at the gas station. _Liar_.", she groaned, shaking her head.

 

"It was a half-truth."

 

"A draw."

 

"But- as I was saying; I've always loved the color. It's a nice kind of blue, you know? Not too weird and pure; but not like the gross blue-green-gray shade, either. _Perfect blue_. Nice smile, too."

 

Her hands traveled further down his neck and chest, settling at a point just above his belly button.

 

"And you're absolutely rock solid. Maybe not... _this year_ , but who else would I trust to just throw me around like I weigh nothing? Which trust me, _Chuck_ \- I _don't_ weigh _nothing_. The _stupid_ belt on this dress won't come down, and I tried pulling it a little lower; but then- you know, the skirt rides up my butt; and I'm starting to think-"

 

"We _really_ need new costumes.", he said, with a derisive snort.

 

"We really need to stop _eating_."

 

Charlie shook his head, wildly; his hands circling hers on his chest.

 

"C'mon...don't say things like that. I think you look _fine_...besides- it's just a _fucking_ dress, Meryl. It's not _worth_ doing something...stupid over."

 

"Well, then. Rationality prevails.", she chuckled, pulling him up with her, and across the room to face the vanity mirror again. "Now, you just tell _yourself_ that, too.", she said- pointing at their reflection.

 

"Not fair. You totally cheated.", Charlie muttered under his breath.

 

"Yeah; but it's truth. I think you look fine, Charlie. And sure, neither of us really look like we did during the Olympics; but it's not the Olympics anymore; and I guess- you know, it's like my Mom said, we're just _growing up_.", she told him, wrapping her arms tightly around his chest as she spoke. " _It's okay to cry_ about it...it's just really _hard_ \- to try and be _normal_ after all that."

 

He nodded. "So I wasn't the only one who got that talk about " _this wonderful transitory period_ " from my Mom?"

 

Meryl giggled, shaking slightly in his arms as he returned her hug. "Oh, God, _no_. It was way _worse_ than health class. I mean, _you know my Mom_. She wanted to go over mortgage planning with me because she was convinced I had no idea how."

 

" _Brutal._ ", he whispered, dropping a quick peck of his lips to her forehead.

 

"I think I can say we've weathered harsher storms. We're gonna be fine, you know.", she said with a tiny smile.

 

He spun her out of their hug, as easily and fluidly as if the hotel room carpet were ice. Charlie squinted, scrutinizing their reflection in the vanity.

 

Maybe; buttoned up right- the shirt wouldn't look all that bad. Certainly, the angle his pants hung at the moment wasn't even close to bad. It looked just fine; and maybe that would have to be _enough._

 

 _And if all else failed_ , he reminded himself, as Meryl set herself back to spreading Sunset across his cheeks; at least he wouldn't be out there by himself.


End file.
